Saulwas alone in his happiness to return to the questionable comfort of thehalf-track’s rugged leather interior withJared Meuller. None among the group, Saul included, fully trusted the merchant after their initial experience with the man, but funds and circumstance hadn’t offered them an alternate route. They offered him their final three credits on the transport in order to deliver the engineering journal to the Milwaukee branch ofLorekeepers who resided atSandburg Castle. Jared tried his best to getEliza to sit with him up front, but for as insistent as Saul was in becoming Jared’s’ friend, Eliza was equally resistant to his advances. It also didn’t help Jared thatFloyd had not stopped glowering at him, with his one eye, since they had re-crossed paths back in Madison.
Jared feigned interest in talking to Saul in an attempt to extract any information he could from the boy in regard to the journal. Saul knew well enough to extend the lie Lawrence had implanted earlier that day, and as soon as Jared was convinced the journal wasn’t in their possession any longer, his interest in talking to Saul became greatly diminished. After a dozen unanswered questions, resulting in an extended spell of silence, Saul’s curiosity had the best of him again as he asked, “How long until we reach Milwaukee?”
Jared was willing to answer this question. “I dunno kid; we’ll be there by nightfall. We have to stop in Johnson Creek up ahead to refuel this baby, but it shouldn’t be more than three hours.” Jared’s arm hung out the driver side window as he patted the half-track lovingly. A few minutes later he yelled, “Pit stop!” to the passengers in the back and then pulled off of the main road and drove the half-track to the Johnson Creek Roadhouse.
“Alright, everybody out,” he said, and the group filtered their way into the sun.
Lawrence stretched his length and said, “This adventure is becoming a greater struggle than I anticipated. I think we all deserve a drink.”
Saul beamed at the opportunity but was quickly shot down with a look from Floyd.
“How are you going to pay for drinks with zero credits?” asked Eliza.
“I didn’t become a merchant for nothing,” said Lawrence with a wink.
“What do ya say Floyd? Drinks are on me.”
“Whiskey?” asked Floyd.
“Whiskey,” confirmed Lawrence.
“Lead the way,” said Floyd, who was more than ready for a drink himself.
Outside the roadhouse Dr. Sandra Jimenez, introduced herself to the group and offered medical assistance, to which, thankfully, the group was not in need. What they did need however was first aid supplies. Sandra and Eliza worked out a trade, excessgauze in exchange for Sandra’s excess antibiotics. It wouldn’t be long, however, before medical attention would be needed as two large men approached with menacing intentions.
Lawrence asked Sandra, “Do you know these men,” but as he turned to see her response all he saw was the tail end of her dress wisp into the Roadhouse. “I think drinks will have to wait,” he whispered.
Floyd and Eliza both nodded their heads, fully prepared. Saul sensed trouble as well and made sure to use Floyd’s mass as a shield.
“Something the matter, gentlemen?” began Lawrence.
The only reply the large men offered was to each reveal a 9mm handgun.
Floyd wasted no time and with surprising athleticism reached into the folds of the tent strapped to his back and pulled from it two loaded muskets, tossing one over to Lawrence. Floyd, though not overly skilled with firearms, was quick to shoot, hitting one of the men in the foot. Lawrence’s shot was less beneficial as it exploded in the barrel. Shrapnel flew into his face and body, a cloud of smoke filled his lungs and covered his body as he lay prone on the ground from the shock.
The strangers fired a round in response. The first shot missed Floyd entirely; the second hit Lawrence in the shoulder, introducing him to a new world of pain. Saul did what he could to drag Lawrence away from the battle and into the entryway of the Roadhouse.
Eliza threw a direct from her hatchet against the same man whom Floyd had shot. The hatchet clung to his chest. Blood poured forth as he fell to his knees. The second stranger took another shot at Lawrence, as Saul was dragging him into the Roadhouse, but missed. Eliza rushed at the man who stood without a scratch and attempted to disarm the gun from his hand. They scuffled and neither gained the advantage. While his sister had the man distracted, Floyd charged the stranger and stabbed him with his hunting knife.
In the final moments of the man’s life Floyd grabbed him by the collar and demanding, “Why did you come after us? Who sent you?”
At this point, the gurgling blood of this dying stranger was more than the other could offer. “An anonymous…contractor, their payment… secured…our future,” he said.
“But why?” asked Eliza.
“…the…notebook.” A stream of blood accompanied his final words.
Floyd laid the men side by side upon the dirt ground and shut their eyes.
The only person who had even the slightest knowledge about the existence of the book other than the group and the Lorekeepers was Jared.
Eliza rushed inside to help Sandra attend to Lawrence’s wounds and to make sure Saul was okay. The bullet in Lawrence’s shoulder was extracted without risk of infection and the shrapnel was removed from his face. Floyd informed the group of the motivation behind the attack and the group agreed it was best to get as far from Jared as soon as possible.
As they walked out of the Roadhouse, Jared was standing next to the half-track and asked, “Oh my god, what happened here?” and when an answer wasn’t given he shrugged and asked, “Everybody ready?”
Saul was alone in his happiness to return to the questionable comfort of the half-track’s rugged leather interior with Jared Meuller. None among the group, Saul included, fully trusted the merchant after their initial experience with the man, but funds and circumstance hadn’t offered them an alternate route. They offered him their final three credits on the transport in order to deliver the engineering journal to the Milwaukee branch of Lorekeepers who resided at Sandburg Castle. Jared tried his best to get Eliza to sit with him up front, but for as insistent as Saul was in becoming Jared’s’ friend, Eliza was equally resistant to his advances. It also didn’t help Jared that Floyd had not stopped glowering at him, with his one eye, since they had re-crossed paths back in Madison.
Jared feigned interest in talking to Saul in an attempt to extract any information he could from the boy in regard to the journal. Saul knew well enough to extend the lie Lawrence had implanted earlier that day, and as soon as Jared was convinced the journal wasn’t in their possession any longer, his interest in talking to Saul became greatly diminished. After a dozen unanswered questions, resulting in an extended spell of silence, Saul’s curiosity had the best of him again as he asked, “How long until we reach Milwaukee?”
Jared was willing to answer this question. “I dunno kid; we’ll be there by nightfall. We have to stop in Johnson Creek up ahead to refuel this baby, but it shouldn’t be more than three hours.” Jared’s arm hung out the driver side window as he patted the half-track lovingly. A few minutes later he yelled, “Pit stop!” to the passengers in the back and then pulled off of the main road and drove the half-track to the Johnson Creek Roadhouse.
“Alright, everybody out,” he said, and the group filtered their way into the sun.
Lawrence stretched his length and said, “This adventure is becoming a greater struggle than I anticipated. I think we all deserve a drink.”
Saul beamed at the opportunity but was quickly shot down with a look from Floyd.
“How are you going to pay for drinks with zero credits?” asked Eliza.
“I didn’t become a merchant for nothing,” said Lawrence with a wink.
“What do ya say Floyd? Drinks are on me.”
“Whiskey?” asked Floyd.
“Whiskey,” confirmed Lawrence.
“Lead the way,” said Floyd, who was more than ready for a drink himself.
Outside the roadhouse Dr. Sandra Jimenez, introduced herself to the group and offered medical assistance, to which, thankfully, the group was not in need. What they did need however was first aid supplies. Sandra and Eliza worked out a trade, excess gauze in exchange for Sandra’s excess antibiotics. It wouldn’t be long, however, before medical attention would be needed as two large men approached with menacing intentions.
Lawrence asked Sandra, “Do you know these men,” but as he turned to see her response all he saw was the tail end of her dress wisp into the Roadhouse. “I think drinks will have to wait,” he whispered.
Floyd and Eliza both nodded their heads, fully prepared.
Saul sensed trouble as well and made sure to use Floyd’s mass as a shield.
“Something the matter, gentlemen?” began Lawrence.
The only reply the large men offered was to each reveal a 9mm handgun.
Floyd wasted no time and with surprising athleticism reached into the folds of the tent strapped to his back and pulled from it two loaded muskets, tossing one over to Lawrence. Floyd, though not overly skilled with firearms, was quick to shoot, hitting one of the men in the foot. Lawrence’s shot was less beneficial as it exploded in the barrel. Shrapnel flew into his face and body, a cloud of smoke filled his lungs and covered his body as he lay prone on the ground from the shock.
The strangers fired a round in response. The first shot missed Floyd entirely; the second hit Lawrence in the shoulder, introducing him to a new world of pain. Saul did what he could to drag Lawrence away from the battle and into the entryway of the Roadhouse.
Eliza threw a direct from her hatchet against the same man whom Floyd had shot. The hatchet clung to his chest. Blood poured forth as he fell to his knees. The second stranger took another shot at Lawrence, as Saul was dragging him into the Roadhouse, but missed. Eliza rushed at the man who stood without a scratch and attempted to disarm the gun from his hand. They scuffled and neither gained the advantage. While his sister had the man distracted, Floyd charged the stranger and stabbed him with his hunting knife.
In the final moments of the man’s life Floyd grabbed him by the collar and demanding, “Why did you come after us? Who sent you?”
At this point, the gurgling blood of this dying stranger was more than the other could offer. “An anonymous…contractor, their payment… secured…our future,” he said.
“But why?” asked Eliza.
“…the…notebook.” A stream of blood accompanied his final words.
Floyd laid the men side by side upon the dirt ground and shut their eyes.
The only person who had even the slightest knowledge about the existence of the book other than the group and the Lorekeepers was Jared.
Eliza rushed inside to help Sandra attend to Lawrence’s wounds and to make sure Saul was okay. The bullet in Lawrence’s shoulder was extracted without risk of infection and the shrapnel was removed from his face. Floyd informed the group of the motivation behind the attack and the group agreed it was best to get as far from Jared as soon as possible.
As they walked out of the Roadhouse, Jared was standing next to the half-track and asked, “Oh my god, what happened here?” and when an answer wasn’t given he shrugged and asked, “Everybody ready?”